IRLF 


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GIFT  OF 
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YOUR  MEMORY! 

A  Delightful  and  Profitable 
Servant 


BY 
GEORGE  WHARTON  JAMES 

Author  of  "Living  the  Radiant  Life"  "Qv.  Worrying," 

"Singing  Through  Life  with  God,"  "In  mid  Around 
Canyon,"  "Arizona,  the  Wonderland," 
"Indian  Basketry,"  Etc., 


THIS  Is  A  CHAPTER  FROM  ''DELIGHT  AND  POWER  IN 
i  TECH,"    A    UNIVERSAL    DRAMATIC    READER,    BY 
LEONARD     G.     NATTKEMPER    AND     GEORGE 
WHARTON    JAMES.      FULL    ANNOUNCE- 
MENT ON  INSIDE  COVER 


THE  RADIANT  LIFE  PRESS 
PASADENA,  CALIFORNIA 


iiiMH.ui   iiunmimni   imiiimiiim   niiimimiiif 


Do  You 

Want  a  Good  Memory? 

You  Can  Have  One 


GEORGE  WHARTON  JAMES  has  taught  thousands  of  people 
how  to  make  their  memories  their  willing,  delightful  and 
profitable  servants.  Think  of  the  joy  of  having  a  memory 
that  obeys  you,  does  as  you  tell  it,  brings  back  to  you  all  the 
pleasures  you  have  enjoyed,  books  you  have  read,  poems  and 
fine  selections  you  have  studied,  sermons,  lectures,  concerts, 
recitals,  symphonies  you  have  listened  to. 

A  good  memory  means  more  money  in  your  business. 

A  poor  memory  is  a  curse. 

In  six  lessons  you  can  train  your  memory  to  be  your  obedi- 
ent servant.  Send  your  name  and  address  and  the  first  lesson 
will  be  sent  by  mail.  If  after  you  have  read  and  studied  it 
you  are  satisfied,  send  five  dollars  and  the  other  lessons  will 
be  sent  to  you.  If  not,  return  Lesson  One,  and  there  will  be 
bligation  on  your  part. 


Idress  personally  to 

GEORGE  WHARTON  JAMES 

MEMORY  CULTURE  DEPARTMENT, 
1098  N.  RAYMOND  AVEN 
PASADENA.  CALIFORNI\ 


YOUR  MEMORY! 
A  Delightful  and  Profitable  Servant 

A  PRACTICAL  GUIDE  TO  THE  CULTIVATION 
OF  THE  MEMORY 

NOTHING  is  of  greater  importance  to  the  intelligent  and 
thoughtful  man  or  woman  who  would  become  a  public  speaker 
than  the  cultivation  of  the  memory.  Its  pleasures  and  joys 
are  no  less  than  its  importance  and  usefulness.  Well  might 
Richter  exclaim:  "Recollection  is  the  only  paradise  from 
which  we  cannot  be  turned  out."  How  it  brings  back  to  us 
joys  of  sights,  sounds  and  emotions.  One  has  been  thrilled 
with  a  gorgeous  landscape,  a  brilliant  and  vivid  sunset,  a  ma- 
jestic mountain,  a  vision  of  feminine  beauty,  or  an  inspiring 
exhibition  of  physical  prowess.  He  has  seen  the  proud  march 
of  armed  men,  or  the  gathering  of  gay  and  happy  throngs  in 
the  public  play-grounds  and  parks.  A  thousand  memories  of 
sights  bring-back  joys  and  delights  of  other  days.  So  is  it  with 
the  memories  of  sounds — concerts,  symphonies,  stirring  songs, 
martial  music,  and  the  sweet  voices  of  loved  ones  passed  away. 

It  can  readily  be  seen  that  memory  is  the  practical  basis  of 
all  knowledge.  Indeed  there  is  no  conscious  knowledge  with- 
out memory.  No  man  can  think  without  it;  there  is  no  busi- 
ness success ;  no  writing,  no  poetry,  no  literature,  no  oratory, 
no  conversation,  no  music,  no  art,  no  psychology,  no  anything 
of  mental  life  without  memory.  Without  memory  there  is  no 
identity.  If  I  cannot  remember  myself  of  an  hour  ago,  of 
yesterday,  of  many  yesterdays,  I  cannot  be  a  personality.  Life 
would  be  disconnected  and  therefore  incoherent  and  useless. 

A  poor  memory  is  ever  a  hindrance  if  not  a  positive  curse. 

1 

454749 


2  YOUR  MEMORY! 

It  is  as  if  one's  legs  should  fail  to  bear  him  up  when  he  starts 
to  walk,  run,  leap,  or  as  if  his  eyes  should  refuse  to  see,  or  saw 
but  dimly  when  he  wished  to  observe.  It  is  a  never-ending 
cause  of  confusion,  embarrassment,  irritation,  and  loss.  No 
man  in  any  walk  of  life  ever  yet  succeeded  without  a  good 
memory,  and  many  a  public  speaker  owes  his  success  to  his 
always  ready  power  over  this  faculty.  Abraham  Lincoln  is  a 
striking  example  of  this  truth. 

STOKES'S  GOLDEN  RULE  OF  MEMORY 

Psychologists  have  not  yet  determined  what  the  memory  is, 
but  all  are  agreed  that  it  can  be  cultivated.  A  few  general 
propositions  can  be  laid  down,  which,  if  faithfully  followed, 
•are  certain  to  bring  desired  results.  Stokes,  the  great  memory 
teacher  of  the  Royal  Polytechnic  Institution  of  London,  for- 
mulated his  golden  rule  of  memory  as  follows:  "Observe, 
reflect,  link  thought  with  thought,  and  think  of  the  impres- 
sions." 

STRENGTHENING  THE  OBSERVATION 

Careful  observation  is  the  basis  of  memory.  To  observe  is 
to  regard  with  attention,  to  note  with  interest,  in  other  words 
to  see  well.  How  many  people  are  there  who  see  well?  All 
persons  who  are  not  blind  can  see,  but  do  they  see  well?  It 
must  be  confessed  that  good  observers  are  rare,  and  that  is 
one  reason  why^  good  memories  are  rare.  The  discipline  of 
the  observation  is  one  of  the  most  important  ends  of  all  men- 
tal education.  Teach  a  child  to  observe  and  he  can  and  will 
educate  himself.  Indeed  he  cannot  help  becoming  educated. 
Without  discipline  of  the  observation  one  may  pass  through 
ten  colleges  and  yet  remain  uneducated.  What  is  the  reason 
the  Indian  can  follow  a  trail  so  much  better  than  a  white  man  ? 
His  life  has  depended  upon  his  powers  of  observation.  From 
the  earliest  days  of  his  dawning  intelligence  his  perceptive  fac- 


YOUR  MEMORY!  3 

ulties  were  aroused  and  highly  developed  by  the  struggle  for 
his  very  existence.  He  was  compelled  to  watch  the  animals 
in  order  that  he  might  avoid  those  that  were  dangerous,  and 
catch  those  that  were  good  for  food ;  to  follow  the  flying  birds 
that  he  might  know  when  to  trap  them.  He  watched  the  fishes 
as  they  spawned  and  hatched;  the  insects  as  they  bored  and 
burrowed ;  the  plants  and  trees  as  they  grew  and  budded,  blos- 
somed and  seeded.  The  tracks  of  animals,  whether  upon  the 
sand,  the  snow,  the  mud,  or  more  solid  earth,  soon  became 
familiar  signs  to  him.  All  these  and  many  other  things  in  na- 
ture he  learned  to  know  thoroughly  in  his  simple  and  primitive 
manner.  This  knowledge  in  his  daily  struggle  for  existence 
came  by  means  of  his  attention  to  details.  Hence  to  the  un- 
trained white  man  his  powers  of  observation  seem  little  short 
of  marvelous. 

Children  from  their  earliest  years  should  be  taught  with 
systematic  persistence  to  cultivate  this  faculty.  They  should 
be  urged  to  tell  all  they  can  see  in  pictures.  A  table  spread 
with  diverse  articles  covered  with  a  cloth  is  also  a  good  means 
of  disciplining  close  attention  and  memory.  Let  the  children 
stand  around  it  and,  after  removing  the  cloth,  give  them  a 
minute,  or  less,  for  observation,  then  re-cover.  Then  give 
each  child  a  chance  to  tell  how  many  articles  there  are;  what 
they  are ;  and  what  is  their  relative  position  to  each  other,  etc. 
An  intelligent  teacher  will  invent  a  score  of  devices  for  cul- 
tivation of  the  powers  of  observation,  and  nothing  will  better 
repay  her  endeavors. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  used  to  illustrate  the  difference  be- 
tween observers  and  non-observers  by  telling  a  tale  of  two  city 
lads  whom  he  once  sent  out  into  the  country.  One  he  called 
"Eyes"  and  the  other  "No  Eyes."  Each  was  to  go  to  a  cer- 
tain place  and  report  upon  what  he  saw.  The  one  on  his  re- 
turn had  seen  little.  The  other — Eyes — was  rilled  to  overflow- 
ing with  the  things  he  had  observed. 


4  YOUR  MEMORY! 

It  is  undoubtedly  due  to  the  development  of  this  faculty  that 
the  hat-boys  and  hotel  clerks  are  able  to  call  the  guests  by  name 
and  return  to  them  their  own  belongings. 

Read  the  novels  of  Frank  Norris,  of  Jack  London,  of  Win- 
ston Churchill  or  any  successful  writer,  the  lines  of  any  truly 
great  poet,  and  the  ordinary  mind  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed 
with  the  wonderful  store  of  knowledge  gleaned  from  a  thou- 
sand and  one  sources  possessed  by  their  writers.  Think  of 
the  wealth  of  observations  poured  forth  by  a  Shakspere,  a 
Browning,  a  Goethe.  Every  page  contains  them  by  the  score 
— observations  of  facts  in  nature,  art,  science,  literature,  human 
action,  and  indeed  of  everything  under  the  sun.  Hence,  if 
you  would  be  an  educated  man  you  must  observe. 

SUGGESTIVE  METHODS  TO  PURSUE 

To  discipline  the  power  of  observation,  begin  consciously  to 
see  and  then  immediately  to  test  your  own  remembrance  of 
what  you  see.  See  slowly,  see  surely.  Be  sure  you  have  seen 
correctly.  There  is  so  much  uncertainty  in  all  of  our  mental 
processes.  If  it  is  a  pile  of  books  you  are  seeing,  be  sure, 
positive,  that  there  are  eleven.  Do  not  content  yourself  by 
saying  there  are  about  ten  or  twelve  and  let  it  go  at  that.  Note 
their  size,  color  of  their  bindings,  and,  if  possible,  note  each 
title. 

There  are  some  librarians  who  seldom  forget  a  book  after 
once  seeing  it,  and  can  tell  not  only  its  appearance,  but  its  place 
on  the  book  shelves,  and  the  appearance  of  its  neighbors  on 
either  side.  This  is  one  of  the  qualifications  of  an  efficient 
library  assistant.  What  is  true  of  the  librarian  is  likewise  true 
of  other  people.  What  makes  the  difference  between  an  effi- 
cient clerk  in  a  book-store  and  one  who  is  merely  passable? 
It  is  this  power  of  observation  and  memory  which  makes  his 
knowledge  of  books  held  in  stock  reliable. 


YOUR  MEMORY!  5 

Let  us  continue  our  suggestions.  In  looking  over  a  land- 
scape be  definite  in  your  seeing.  Be  sure  that  the  river  is  to 
the  left,  and  not  to  the  right;  that  a  certain  tree  is  a  sycamore, 
and  not  a  poplar;  that  the  green  on  the  hillside  is  the  young, 
fresh  green  of  the  dawn  of  the  spring,  rather  than  the  richer 
green  of  the  summer.  What  is  it  that  makes  the  landscape 
artist?  His  power  to  portray  depends  upon  his  ability  to  dis- 
cern and  observe.  The  poet  and  orator  do  the  same,  but  they 
make  their  pictures  with  words  and  phrases  instead  of  pig- 
ments and  canvas. 

In  seeing  anything,  get  hold  of  every  fact  possible — size, 
position,  color,  relative  importance,  and,  then,  before  you  con- 
clude your  observations,  close  your  eyes  and  reconstruct  the 
scene  mentally.  Do  this  over  and  over  again,  until  you  add 
and  add  to  your  mental  picture  things  you  had  before  failed 
to  see.  Do  not  merely  catalogue  mentally,  but  see  everything 
in  its  own  place,  in  full  detail,  and  in  its  relation  to  every 
other  thing.  A  comparatively  short  period  of  this  kind  of  dis- 
cipline will  enable  you  to  do  things  that  will  not  only  astound 
your  friends,  but  will  be  a  source  of  infinite  pleasure  and,  if 
used  intelligently  in  your  business  or  profession,  profit  to 
yourself. 

The  same  principle  applies  in  reading.  Read  slowly.  Be 
sure  you  understand.  Grasp  every  idea  thoroughly.  To  do 
this  you  must  learn  to  picture  mentally.  You  should  compel 
yourself  to  make  a  mental  picture  of  every  scene  described. 
You  are  reading  Victor  Hugo's  "Les  Miserables."  You  come 
to  his  incomparable  description  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  He 
tells  us  at  the  very  commencement  that  it  was  the  rain  that 
gained  the  victory  at  Waterloo.  Observation  and  reflection 
on  Hugo's  part  made  it  possible  for  him  to  make  this  declara- 
tion. Carefully  observe  this  statement  and  what  follows. 

Picture  that  great  plain,  the  undulating  sweep  of  ground. 
Place  the  two  armies,  and  then  see  the  attack  begin  on  Hougo- 


6  YOUR  MEMORY! 

mont.  Watch  the  changing  scene  with  your  mental  eyes.  Fol- 
low Hugo  as  he  describes  the  general  confusion  from  noon 
until  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Now  prepare  yourself  for 
a  great  picture  of  a  tremendous  day.  See  Wellington's  dis- 
posal of  his  troops  on  the  farther  side  of  a  long  hill,  on  the 
crest  of  which  was  a  deep  trench  caused  by  a  road  whose  ruts 
during  the  centuries  had  worn  down  into  the  earth  ten,  twenty 
or  more  feet.  On  the  near  side  of  this  hill  Napoleon's  cav- 
alry are  ascending — three  thousand  five  hundred  of  them,  co- 
lossal men  on  colossal  horses.  On,  up,  they  sweep.  They 
seem  as  irresistible  as  the  passing  cyclone.  Just  as  they  reach 
the  crest,  to  their  horror  they  discover  this  trench  between 
themselves  and  the  English.  Let  Hugo's  own  words  now  com- 
plete the  picture  for  you : 

It  was  a  terrible  moment.  The  ravine  was  there,  unexpected, 
yawning,  directly  under  the  horses'  feet,  two  fathoms  deep  between 
its  double  slopes ;  the  second  file  pushed  the  first  into  it,  and  the  third 
pushed  on  the  second;  the  horses  reared  and  fell  backward,  landed  on 
their  haunches,  slid  down,  all  four  feet  in  the  air,  crushing  and  over- 
whelming the  riders;  and  there  being  no  means  of  retreat, — the  whole 
column  being  no  longer  anything  more  than  a  projectile, — the  force 
which  had  been  acquired  to  crush  the  English  crushed  the  French; 
the  inexorable  ravine  could  only  yield  when  filled;  horses  and  riders 
rolled  pell-mell,  grinding  each  other,  forming  but  one  mass  of  flesh  in 
this  gulf:  when  this  trench  was  full  of  living  men,  the  rest  marched 
over  them  and  passed  on.  Almost  a  third  of  Dubois's  brigade  fell 
into  that  abyss.  ' 

Take  an  illustration  from  the  American  novel — "Ramona." 
Get  a  real  picture  in  your  mind  of  the  appearance  of  the  coun- 
try. See  the  sheep  with  their  lambs  in  the  fields  under  the 
trees.  Determine  what  size,  shape,  and  color  these  trees  are. 
Picture  Juan  Can,  the  foreman  or  major-domo,  listen  to  his 
voice,  so  that  you  can  definitely  sense  what  kind  of  impression 
it  makes  upon  your  mental  ear.  Do  the  same  with  the  Senora 
Moreno.  Can  you  see  that  mustard-field  described  by  the 


YOUR  MEMORY!  7 

author,  where  Ramona  goes  out  to  meet  the  good  Father  Sal- 
vierderra  ?  Have  you  got  a  picture  in  your  mind  of  Ramona, 
and  the  father,  and  how  they  met,  and  how  they  returned  to 
Camulos  together?  Picture,  picture,  PICTURE,  mentally,  until 
every  scene,  every  landscape,  every  character  is  vividly  be- 
fore you. 

This  was  the  method  followed  by  Macaulay,  whose  memory 
was  so  phenomenal  that  Sydney  Smith  called  him  "an  encyclo- 
pedia in  breeches,"  and  who  used  to  say  that  he  owed  much  of 
his  memory  power  to  the  discipline  he  used  to  give  himself  in 
mental  picturing.  He  never  read  in  a  hurry.  He  always  al- 
lowed himself  time  enough  vividly  to  bring  the  scene  before  his 
mental  vision,  and  once  done,  with  him,  it  was  ready  to  be 
recalled  at  any  time. 

Joaquin  Miller  used  to  say  that  he  even  pictured  abstract 
ideas.  If,  for  instance,  he  was  thinking  of  the  abstract  qual- 
ity of  coldness,  he  would  make  a  picture  of  some  one  suffering 
from  cold,  or  some  wintry  landscape. 

IT  Is  DIFFICULT  TO  OBSERVE  PROPERLY 

By  this  time,  if  you  have  faithfully  followed  these  instruc- 
tions about  observation,  you  will  have  discovered  that  the  mere 
observation  of  unrelated  facts  amounts  to  very  little.  You  will 
begin  to  see  that  no  observation  of  the  mind  is  simple.  While 
you  are  observing,  you  are  naturally  doing  something  else,  for 
you  are  classifying  facts,  seeing  their  relation  one  to  another, 
recognizing  similarities  or  differences,  contrasts  and  harmonies. 
The  mind  works  as  a  whole,  not  the  memory  separately,  nor 
the  judgment  by  itself.  Each  part  is  dependent  upon  each 
other  part:  they  overlap  one  another;  the  operations  of  one 
faculty  imply  the  operations  of  all  the  other  faculties.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  the  student  must  seek  to  discipline  each 
apparently  isolated  faculty  of  the  mind. 


8  YOUR  MEMORY! 

In  observing,  it  is  not  enough  mentally  to  picture  what  you 
read.  You  must  go  even  more  into  detail  than  that.  You 
must  observe  words.  Did  you  ever  read  "Martin  Eden,"  that 
wonderful  study  in  mental  development  and  self-analysis, 
written  by  Jack  London,  revealing  in  retrospect  his  own  mental 
processes?  It  will  more  than  pay  you  for  the  trouble  of  read- 
ing. Follow  and  practice  what  he  therein  describes.  Words 
are  things  but  they  are  things  only  when  you  know  them  so 
intimately  that  they  bring  real  concept  to  your  mind  the  mo- 
ment you  see  them.  It  is  not  enough  that  you  can  pronounce 
a  word  properly — that  you  seem  to  know  it.  Each  word  must 
mean  something  to  you,  and  that  something  must  be  definite, 
so  definite  that  no  other  can  mean  exactly  the  same  thing. 

One  of  the  greatest  dialectitians  of  our  day  was  Monsignore 
Capel,  the  private  confessor  of  Pope  Leo  XIII.  Even  in  ex- 
temporaneous speech  every  word  he  used  was  the  right  word. 
No  other  word  would  have  done  just  as  well.  He  was  once 
asked  how  he  gained  his  power  over  words,  and  he  replied  to 
the  effect  that  when  he  was  a  lad  he  had  several  tutors.  One 
only,  however,  was  a  real  and  thorough  teacher.  He  said: 
"My  first  day  with  him  I  shall  never  forget.  He  gave  me  a 
lesson  in  Caesar,  and  then  sent  me  away  with  six  lines,  which 
I  was  to  translate  and  bring  to  him  in  the  afternoon.  That 
seemed  easy.  When  I  went  to  recite  my  lesson  I  followed  my 
usual  wont — gave  a  free  and  easy  translation,  which  may  have 
contained  the  sense  of  the  original,  or  may  not.  He  heard  me 
through  without  a  word.  Then  he  began  a  dissection  of  my 
method  of  translation  that  made  my  hair  stand  on  end,  every 
drop  of  my  blood  tingle,  every  faculty  of  my  brain  respond, 
every  power  of  my  soul  awaken  to  a  sense  of  the  hitherto  un- 
told, undreamed  of,  unbounded  capacities  of  words.  That  man 
was  a  genius  in  quickening  a  lad's  dormant  faculties  into  living, 
driving,  whipping  forces  for  good.  He  took  each  word  of  the 
original  and  demanded  that  I  find  its  equivalent  in  English,  and 


YOUR  MEMORY!  9 

he  showed  me  how  to  do  it.  I  must  never  take  to  him  an  Eng- 
lish word  whose  original  parentage  I  could  not  trace.  I  must 
know  all  its  mutations  and  their  whys  and  wherefores.  There 
could  be  no  such  thing  as  a  free  translation.  It  was  either  a 
strictly  literal  translation  or  my  version,  lazy  or  otherwise,  in 
another  language  from  that  in  which  the  author  had  written. 
From  that  day  on,  I  began  the  study  of  words.  I  learned  how 
to  trace  the  history  of  words;  the  changes  that  had  come  into 
their  meanings,  and  my  teacher  helped  me  to  do  it  during  the 
whole  of  the  time  I  was  in  his  hands.  To  him  I  owe  what- 
ever power  I  possess  to-day." 

Read  Trench's  book  on  words  and  then  study  John  Ruskin's 
"Sesame  and  Lilies."  Get  hold  of  all  the  modern  books  on  the 
subject.  Read  Shelley,  Keats,  George  Sterling,  Browning, 
Swinburne — any  author  who  has  great  felicity  of  phrase,  rare 
delicacy  of  expression,  and  seek  to  discover  his  secret,  and 
you  will  be  amazed  at  the  potent  force  of  words.  For,  of 
course,  while  words  themselves  are  to  be  studied,  it  is  in  their 
relation  one  to  another  when  put  into  sentences  that  their 
power,  sweetness,  beauty,  charm,  and  music  lie. 

And  here  we  come  to  the  real  work  of  observing.  All  else 
is  preparatory  to  grasping  the  idea  of  the  author.  In  his  idea 
lies  his  inspiration.  The  words  he  uses  may  be  good,  medium, 
or  indifferent,  but  if  we  grasp  his  idea,  his  high,  intellectual 
and  spiritual  conception  and  aspirations,  we  have  gained  the 
chief  thing.  Words  are  a  wonderful  help  in  this.  His  power 
to  arrange  them,  to  give  them  new  settings,  new  and  richer 
cadences,  will  not  fail  to  quicken  our  own  intellect  to  readier 
and  keener  appreciation  of  his  thought.  Hence  words  should 
be  deeply,  attentively  and  earnestly  studied  by  all  authors  and 
speakers  in  order  that  they  may  be  able  to  arrange  them  in  this 
masterly  fashion.  For  this  personal  arrangement  of  words 
and  phrases,  this  flow  and  rhythm,  is  that  marvelous  thing  we 
call  style.  Several  times  in  "Martin  Eden"  Jack  London  refers 


10  YOUR  MEMORY! 

to  this.  He  has  his  rude  hero  who  is  brought  out  of  the 
streets,  influenced  by  the  love  he  feels  for  the  heroine,  deter- 
mine to  educate  himself.  He  studies  and  begins  to  write. 

He  read  to  her  a  story  [one  of  his  own  compositions],  one  that  he 
flattered  himself  was  among  his  very  best.  He  called  it  "The  Wine 
of  Life,"  and  the  wine  of  it,  that  had  stolen  into  his  brain  when  he 
wrote  it,  stole  into  his  brain  now  as  he  read  it.  There  was  a  certain 
magic  in  the  original  conception,  and  he  adorned  it  with  more  magic 
and  phrase  and  touch.  All  the  old  fire  was  reborn  in  him  and  he  was 
swayed  and  swept  away  so  that  he  was  blind  and  deaf  to  the  faults  of 
it.  But  it  was  not  so  with  Ruth.  Her  trained  ear  detected  the  weak- 
nesses and  exaggerations,  the  overemphasis  of  the  tyro,  and  she  was 
instantly  aware  each  time  the  sentence-rhythm  tripped  and  faltered. 
She  scarcely  noted  the  rhythm  otherwise,  except  when  it  became  too 
pompous,  at  which  moments  she  was  disagreeably  impressed  with  its 
amateurishness. 

Just  before  this  he  said  to  her :  "I  hope  I  am  learning  to  talk,  there 
seems  to  be  so  much  in  me  I  want  to  say.  But  it  is  all  so  big.  I  can't 
find  ways  to  say  what  is  really  in  me.  Sometimes  it  seems  to  me  tttat 
all  the  world,  all  life,  everything,  had  taken  up  residence  inside  of  me 
and  was  clamoring  for  me  to  be  spokesman.  I  feel — oh,  I  can't  de- 
scribe it — I  feel  the  bigness  of  it,  but  when  I  speak,  I  babble  like  a 
child.  It  is  a  great  task  to  transmute  feeling  and  sensation  into  speech, 
written  or  spoken,  that  will,  in  turn,  in  him  who  reads  or  listens,  trans- 
mute itself  back  into  the  selfsame  feeling  and  sensation.  It  is  a  lordly 
task.  See,  I  bury  my  face  in  the  grass,  and  the  breath  I  draw  in 
through  my  nostrils  sets  me  quivering  with  a  thousand  thoughts  and 
fancies.  It  is  a  breath  of  the  Universe  I  have  breathed.  I  know  song 
and  laughter,  and  success  and  pain,  and  struggle  and  death;  and  see 
visions  that  arise  in  my  brain  somehow  out  of  the  scent  of  the  grass, 
and  I  would  like  to  tell  them  to  you,  to  the  world.  But  how  can  I? 
My  tongue  is  tied.  I  have  tried,  by  the  spoken  word,  just  now,  to 
describe  to  you  the  effect  on  me  of  the  scent  of  the  grass.  But  I 
have  not  succeeded.  I  have  no  more  than  hinted  in  awkward  speech. 
My  words  seem  gibberish  to  me,  and  yet  I  am  stifled  with  desire  to 
tell." 

That  was  her  final  judgment  on  the  story  as  a  whole — amateurish, 
though  she  did  not  tell  him  so.  Instead,  when  he  had  done,  she 
pointed  out  the  minor  flaws  and  said  that  she  liked  the  story. 


YOUR  MEMORY!  11 

But  he  was  disappointed.  Her  criticism  was  just.  He  acknowledged 
that,  but  he  had  a  feeling  that  he  was  not  sharing  his  work  with  her 
for  the  purpose  of  schoolroom  correction.  The  details  did  not  matter. 
They  could  take  care  of  themselves.  He  could  mend  them,  he  could 
learn  to  mend  them.  Out  of  life  he  had  captured  something  big  and 
attempted  to  imprison  it  in  the  story.  It  was  the  big  thing  out  of  life 
that  he  had  read  to  her,  not  sentence  structure  and  semicolons.  He 
wanted  her  to  feel  with  him  this  big  thing  that  was  his,  that  he  had 
seen  with  his  own  eyes,  grappled  with  his  own  brain,  and  placed  there 
on  the  pages  with  his  own  hands  in  printed  words.  Well,  he  had 
failed,  was  his  secret  decision.  Perhaps  the  editors  were  right.  He 
had  felt  the  big  thing,  but  he  had  failed  to  transmute  it.  He  con- 
cealed his  disappointment,  and  joined  so  easily  with  her  in  her  criti- 
cism that  she  did  not  realize  that  deep  down  in  him  was  running  a 
strong  undercurrent  of  disagreement. 

Later  he  enlarges  upon  this,  and  also  relates  how  he  gained 
his  mastery: 

On  the  looking-glass  were  lists  of  definitions  and  pronunciations ; 
when  shaving,  or  dressing,  or  combing  his  hair,  he  conned  these  lists 
over.  Similar  lists  were  on  the  wall  over  the  oil-stove,  and  they  were 
similarly  conned  while  he  was  engaged  in  cooking  or  washing  dishes. 
New  lists  continually  displaced  the  old  ones.  Every  strange  or  partly 
familiar  word  encountered  in  his  reading  was  immediately  jotted  down, 
and  later,  when  a  sufficient  number  had  been  accumulated,  were  typed 
and  pinned  to  the  wall  or  looking-glass.  He  even  carried  them  in  his 
pockets,  and  reviewed  them  at  odd  moments  on  the  street,  or  while 
waiting  in  butcher-shop  or  grocery  to  be  served. 

He  went  farther  in  the  matter.  Reading  the  works  of  men  who  had 
arrived,  he  noted  every  result  achieved  by  them,  and  worked  out  the 
tricks  by  which  they  had  been  achieved — the  tricks  of  narrative,  of 
exposition,  of  style,  the  points  of  view,  the  contrasts,  the  epigrams ; 
and  of  all  these  he  made  lists  for  study.  He  did  not  ape.  He  sought 
principles.  He  drew  up  lists  of  effective  and  fetching  mannerisms,  till 
out  of  many  such,  culled  from  many  writers,  he  was  able  to  induce  the 
general  principle  of  mannerism,  and,  thus  equipped,  to  cast  about  for 
new  and  original  ones  of  his  own,  and  to  weigh  and  measure  and 
appraise  them  properly.  In  similar  manner  he  collected  lists  of  strong 
phrases,  the  phrases  of  living  languages,  phrases  that  bit  like  acid  and 
scorched  like  flame,  or  that  glowed  and  were  mellow  and  luscious  in 


12  YOUR  MEMORY! 

the  midst  of  the  arid  desert  of  common  speech.  He  sought  always  for 
the  principle  that  lay  behind  and  beneath.  He  wanted  to  know  how 
the  thing  was  done ;  after  that  he  could  do  it  for  himself.  He  was  not 
content  with  the  fair  face  of  the  beauty.  He  dissected  beauty  in  his 
crowded  little  bedroom  laboratory,  where  cooking  smells  alternated 
with  the  outer  bedlam  of  the  Silva  tribe;  and,  having  dissected  and 
learned  the  anatomy  of  beauty,  he  was  nearer  being  able  to  create 
beauty  itself. 

This  latter  quotation  shows  us  how  Jack  London  mastered  a 
knowledge  of  that  subtle  thing  called  "style."  Every  student 
of  English  literature  knows  there  are  vast  differences. between 
the  writings  of  Johnson  and  Carlyle,  De  Quincey  and  Cole- 
ridge, Ruskin  and  Newman,  Browning  and  Tennyson.  Yet 
each  uses  the  English  language  and  possibly  it  might  be  found 
that  the*  vocabulary  of  each  was  not  very  different  from  that 
of  the  other.  Then  wherein  lies  the  difference?  It  is  in  that 
marvelous  personal  quality,  that  individuality  expressed  in  its 
use  of  words,  that  we  call  style,  that  the  difference  lies. 

To  aid  your  memory,  study  and  observe  styles.  Ever  be  on 
the  alert  to  discover  why  an  author  appeals  to  you.  In  read- 
ing Bret  Harte  ask  yourself  why  his  appeal  is  so  different 
from  that  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Browning  from  Longfellow, 
Whitman  from  Swinburne,  Pope  from  Sterling. 

Observation  also  applies  to  hearing  as  well  as  seeing.  How 
do  you  hear?  jCarefully,  definitely,  specifically,  or  indiffer- 
ently, generally?  Have  you  ever  sought  to  disentangle  the 
roar  of  noises  you  can  hear  in  the  city's  streets  ?  At  first  it  is 
a  dull  confusion  of  sound  that  comes  as  one  great,  indistin- 
guishable roar.  Listen!  Observe,  and  you  will  soon  be  able 
to  distinguish  the  clatter  of  hoofs  from  the  creak  of  the  car- 
wheels  ;  the  whistle  of  the  traffic-officer  from  the  cry  of  the 
newsboy,  or  the  honking  of  automobile-horns  from  the  clang 
of  street-car  gongs. 

Most  people  think  that  only  a  highly  trained  musician  should 
be  able  to  distinguish  the  various  instruments  as  they  are  played 


YOUR  MEMORY!  13 

in  a  band  or  an  orchestra,  but  any  well-trained  observer  should 
be  able  to  differentiate  between  the  instruments  if  he  so  de- 
sires. And  this  brings  us  to  a  very  striking1  discovery  that  we 
should  not  overlook;  namely,  that  the  powers  of  observation 
should  be  under  the  personal  control  of  the  individual.  For 
instance,  if  he  desires  to  observe  the  effect  of  the  music  of  an 
orchestra  of  a  hundred  pieces  as  a  whole,  he  should  be  able  to 
do  so.  He  should  likewise  be  able  to  hear  the  different  instru- 
ments, either  alone,"  or  in  their  relation  one  to  another.  The 
power  to  do  this  is  one  of  the  qualifications  of  a  great  con- 
ductor. His  faculties  of  observation  are  highly  developed,  or 
are  naturally  acute  in  this  regard ;  hence,  when  combined  with 
other  leadership  qualities,  he  becomes  a  great  director. 

As  applied  to  hearing  a  speech,  lecture,  or  sermon,  how 
shall  one  observe  ?  Exactly  the  same  as  one  observes  in  read- 
ing— by  concentration  of  attention,  seeing  details,  visualizing 
or  mentally  picturing  every  scene;  listening  to  the  speaker's 
choice  of  words ;  his  power  to  make  euphonic  grouping  not  only 
for  the  sweetness  of  sound,  but  for  their  potency  as  well. 

Hard  work,  this  observing,  is  it  not?  It  is  intensive  and 
perpetual.  The  athlete  must  keep  in  training  so  long  as  he 
desires  physically  to  excel ;  so  with  the  student  or  scholar.  He 
must  not  lag,  must  not  cease  in  his  efforts,  or  he  will  lose  his 
place  or  power.  The  will  must  be  evoked  to  aid  in  such  con- 
centration of  effort.  The  desire  must  be  more  fully  excited, 
aroused,  enthused,  or  the  will  will  not  respond.  How  many 
people  go  to  church,  to  hear  a  lecture,  an  address,  with  the 
determination  strong-  within  them  to  allow  nothing  to  interfere 
with  their  observing  to  the  full  what  is  said  by  the  speaker? 
Note  the  turning  around  as  late-comers  take  their  places. 
Watch  how  easily  the  major  part  of  an  audience's  attention 
can  be  diverted.  It  is  pitiable  and  even  ludicrous  were  it  not 
so  lamentable,  because  it  reveals  that  in  the  training  of  our 
youth  strict  attention  has  not  been  demanded. 


14  YOUR  MEMORY! 

DEVELOP  THE  POWER  OF  REFLECTION 

We  now  come  to  the  second  part  of  Professor  Stokes's  rule 
— Reflect.  This  word  is  made  up  of  two  Latin  words  re,  back 
or  again,  and  flecto,  to  bend  or  turn.  The  meaning  is  thus 
made  clear.  By  observation  through  one  or  more  of  our 
senses  we  perceive  things;  mental  impressions  are  secured; 
these  are  now  to  be  bent  or  turned  so  that  we  can  see  them 
again,  but  the  process  is  to  be  purely  mental.  Reflection  in 
itself  implies  recognition  or  memory,  for  without  memory 
there  could  be  nothing  upon  which  to  reflect.  Every  normal 
human  being  has  the  power  to  bend  again,  to  turn  back,  and 
over  and  over  again  the  impressions  he  has  received  through 
observation.  Hence  reflect  continuously  upon  that  which  you 
wish  to  remember.  Go  over  it  in  every  possible  way.  Dwell 
upon  it,  let  it  develop  within  you  until  you  are  as  familiar  with 
every  possible  phase,  detail,  change,  enlargement  in  it,  as  a 
fond  mother  is  with  the  face  of  her  precious  baby.  As  you 
reflect,  be  sure  your  mind  is  not  playing  you  false.  Refresh 
it  by  referring  to  the  original  again  and  again  if  possible.  In 
this  way  you  deepen  the  original  impressions,  make  them  more 
lasting,  more  secure.  Then,  too,  as  you  look  upon  a  subject 
again — reflect  upon  it — you  get  new  angles  of  vision.  This 
enlarges  your  conception  and  provokes  original  thought.  For 
instance:  Newton  observed  an  apple  fall.  There  we  have  a 
simple  fact  of  observation.  He  began  to  reflect  upon  this  fact. 
As  he  did  so,  fresh  thought  upon  the  fact  leaped  into  his  mind 
and  in  due  time  the  theory  of  gravitation  was  born. 

Centuries  ago  men  observed  the  fact  that  when  a  string  of 
any  kind  was  pulled  tight  and  struck  upon  it  gave  forth  a  mu- 
sical sound.  In  due  time  a  man  or  many  men  in  succession 
reflected  upon  this  fact,  and  the  guitar,  the  banjo,  the  ukulele, 
the  violin  and  the  piano  were  invented,  born  of  the  processes 


YOUR  MEMORY!  15 

of  observation  and  reflection.  This  is  everywhere  seen  in 
fields  where  the  inventive  genius  of  man  is  at  play.  It  was 
John  Dolland  who  observed  that  glass  made  of  different  kinds, 
or  different  properties  of  sand  and  silica,  etc.,  had  a  different 
color,  and  produced  a  different  effect  when  used  in  a  sidereal 
telescope.  He  reflected  upon  this  fact.  This  led  him  to  ex- 
periment, and  by  and  by  he  discovered  that  when  he  placed 
lenses  together,  one  concave  and  the  other  convex,  and  one  of 
crown  and  the  other  of  flint  glass,  a  telescope  was  made  that 
eliminated  the  extra  and  confusing  images  of  the  object  gazed 
upon,  hitherto  found  on  the  outer  rim  of  all  telescopes.  In 
other  words,  the  achromatic  telescope  was  born — one  of  the 
greatest  helps  to  astronomical  science — born  of  many  careful 
observations  and  long-continued  reflections. 

Another  case  in  point  is  that  of  Franklin,  who  saw  the  light- 
ning in  the  clouds — a  simple  act  of  observation.  He  began  to 
reflect  upon  his  observation.  His  reflections  suggested  some- 
thing. He  sent  up  a  kite  to  find  out  if  there  was  any  possi- 
bility of  tapping  that  inexhaustible  reservoir  of  electricity  in 
the  heavens.  Our  use  to-day  of  the  telegraph,  telephone, 
wireless,  electric  light,  electric  power  in  the  thousand  and  one 
ways  it  is  made  to  do  service  to  mankind  is  the  result  of  those 
acts  of  observation  and  reflection.  The  same  is  true  with 
Luther  Burbank,  who  looked  more  closely,  more  attentively, 
with  greater  concentration,  upon  flowers,  vegetables,  plants, 
trees,  than  most  men,  observed  that  extra  fine  potatoes  resulted 
when  the  flowers  of  the  largest  and  best  potatoes  were  cross- 
pollinated.  He  reflected  upon  this  fact.  The  results  have 
astounded  the  world  in  the  development  of  improved  and  even 
new  varieties  of  useful  and  beautiful  growths.  Also  Darwin's 
observations,  confirmed  by  those  of  thousands  of  others,  duly 
reflected  upon,  enabled  him  to  write  his  "Origin  of  Species"; 
and  when  Herbert  Spencer  read  (observed)  that  book  and 


16  YOUR  MEMORY! 

reflected  upon  it,  and  others  cognate  with  it,  he  formulated  his 
"Synthetic  Philosophy,"  which  absolutely  changed  the  current 
of  the  thought  of  the  world. 

So  it  is  with  all  sciences,  all  theories,  all  working  hypotheses, 
all  steps  toward  complete  knowledge.  They,  each  and  all,  in- 
variably and  unalterably  depend  upon  the  two  powers  of  obser- 
vation and  reflection.  There  are  no  discoveries,  no  inventions, 
without  these  two  mental  operations.  Hence  is  it  not  apparent 
that  no  memory  student  can  owr-estimate  their  importance? 
For,  here  is  a  fact  that  observation  has  revealed  and  reflection 
and  experience  confirmed;  namely,  that  he  who  has  carefully 
observed  the  most  facts  is  the  best  prepared  to  reflect  profit- 
ably. Or  to  put  it  in  still  another  way;  no  one  can  properly, 
completely  and  successfully  reflect  unless  his  mind  is  stored 
with  many  facts  accurately  and  minutely  observed.  How 
could  Carlyle  have  written  his  wonderful  "Heroes  and  Hero 
Worship"  unless  he  had  carefully  observed,  through  his  read- 
ing, the  effect  of  a  great  man's  actions  upon  millions  of  his  fel- 
lowmen  ?  His  "Cromwell"  and  "French  Revolution"  still  more 
fully  reflect  the  wealth  of  his  stored  facts  (observations)  and 
the  result  of  his  constantly  turning  them  over  again  and  again 
(reflection)  in  his  powerful,  logical  and  imaginative  mind. 
Helen  Hunt  Jackson's  "Ramona"  is  a  similar  result  of  power- 
ful observation  of  the  California  Indians  and  sympathetic  and 
clear-headed  reflection,  as  was  also  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe's 
"Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  Hence,  Observe,  Reflect,  with  greater 
and  increasingly  greater  care. 

THOUGHT-LINKING 

We  now  come  to  Stokes's  third  requirement — "Link  thought 
with  thought."  Few  things  are  seen  isolated  from  other 
things.  Indeed,  unless  one  deliberately  shuts  out — inhibits — 
his  observing  faculties,  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  see  one 


YOUR  MEMORY!  17 

thing  alone.  Even  the  solitary  star  is  seen  in  relation  to  the 
sky,  and  the  solitary  vessel,  as  it  moves,  in  relation  to  the  ever- 
changing  surface  of  the  deep.  And  it  is  this  natural  relation- 
ship of  one  idea  to  another — and  its  conscious  recognition  at 
the  time  of  observation,  or  later,  during  reflection,  that  one's 
memory  is  aided.  This  is  what  psychologists  have  always 
called  "the  law  of  the  association  of  ideas."  It  is  a  natural 
law,  which  even  a  child  unconsciously  recognizes.  The  baby 
subconsciously  or  instinctively  knows  that  food  and  its  pleas- 
ant sensations  of  comfort  are  associated  with  its  mother's 
breast.  Star  and  sky,  sea  and  ship,  automobile  and  swift 
travel,  gun  and  war,  cyclone  and  disaster,  are  instances  of  nat- 
ural and  simple  association  that  all  people  recognize. 

In  the  cultivation,  discipline,  strengthening  of  the  powers  of 
the  memory,  this  natural  law  can  be  made  to  render  marvelous 
service.  For  not  only  can  man  avail  himself  of  faculties  of 
the  mind  unconsciously  exercised,  he  has  the  additional  power 
of  consciously  directing  their  exercise.  Just  as  our  domestic 
water  systems  are  the  result  of  the  conscious  direction  of  the 
self -flowing  water  in  the  course  we  wish  it  to  flow,  so  is  the 
enlarged  power  of  our  memories  the  result  of  the  conscious  and 
purposeful  direction  of  our  observation,  reflection,  and  thought- 
linking  to  that  end.  Drawn  from  personal  experience  there 
are  five  methods  of  thought-linking  which  have  proved  them- 
selves of  great  help.  These  are:  First,  Incidental.  Second, 
Accidental.  Third,  Scientific.  Fourth,  Pictorial.  Fifth,  Con- 
structive. 

THE  INCIDENTAL  METHOD 

The  events,  the  incidents,  of  the  day  occur  in  a  natural  order : 
one  follows  another.  The  days  of  the  week  with  their  re- 
spective incidents  follow  in  natural  sequence.  A  full  recog- 
nition of  this  fact  is  of  far  greater  help  to  the  memory  than 


18  YOUR  MEMORY! 

one  would  belieye  on  first  thought.  Many  a  man  has  been 
able  to  recall  a  particularly  important  event  by  going  back, 
step  by  step,  incident  by  incident,  over  the  occurrences  of  the 
day.  It  is  related  of  Thurlow  Weed,  the  eminent  statesman, 
that,  when  he  entered  political  life,  he  had  so  poor  and 
wretched  a  memory  that  it  was  his  bane.  He  determined  to 
improve  it,  and,  realizing  the  importance  of  observation  and 
reflection,  he  decided  upon  the  following  method :  As  the  inci- 
dents of  the  day  followed  each  other,  in  natural  sequence,  he 
would  consciously  note  how  they  followed.  Then  at  the  close 
of  the  day  he  sat  down  with  his  wife,  and  relating  the  incidents 
exactly  in  the  order  they  occurred,  he  would  review  the  events 
of  the  day,  even  to  the  most  trivial  and  inconsequential  act. 
At  other  times  he  would  relate  the  incidental  order  backwards. 
It  was  not  long  before  his  memory  so  improved  that  he  began 
to  be  noted  for  it.  Before  he  died,  he  had  the  reputation  of 
possessing  a  phenomenal  memory.  One  will  find  this  same 
method  a  great  help  in  seeking  to  recall  a  sermon,  a  lecture  or 
speech.  There  is  a  natural  sequence  in  all  well-thought-out 
addresses,  and  the  listener,  carefully  noting  the  change  from 
one  thought  to  another — the  progress  of  the  address — will  find 
it  aid  his  memory  development  wonderfully  to  take  the  last 
thought  given,  say,  and  in  reverse  order,  bring  up  the  thoughts, 
the  ideas  given.  Then  let  the  address  be  "incidentally"  gone 
over  from  the  first  thought  to  the  second,  the  third,  and  so  on 
to  the  end.  Thus  it  can  be  recalled  and  put  away  in  the  mem- 
ory securely  for  future  use. 

THE  ACCIDENTAL  METHOD 

Another  natural  method  is  what  may  be  termed  accidental. 
It  is  purely  accidental  that  Pike's  Peak  is  14,147  feet  high,  but 
see  how  this  fact  enables  you  to  fix  the  figures  in  your  mind. 
There  are  two  fourteens  and  the  last  figure  is  half  of  fourteen, 


YOUR  MEMORY!  19 

namely,  seven.  It  is  a  purely  accidental  fact  that  the  two 
Emperors  of  Germany  died  in  1888,  but  the  fact  that  they  did 
die  in  that  year,  the  one  year  in  the  whole  century  when  the 
three  eights  occur,  indelibly  fixes  the  date  in  mind.  Again 
the  year  1666  might  have  passed  by  unnoticed  were  it  not  for 
the  fact  that  that  was  the  date  of  the  Great  Fire  in  London. 

Now  let  us  see  how  this  accidental  association  may  fix  a 
relative  date  for  many  other  important  events.  The  Great 
Fire  purged  the  city  of  London  of  the  horrors  caused  by  the 
Great  Plague.  This  plague  was  made  the  basis  for  Eugene 
Sue's  graphic  novel,  "The  Wandering  Jew."  Wherever  he 
went — so  ran  the  legend — the  plague  followed  as  the  result  of 
Christ's  curse.  It  was  the  Great  Plague  that  brought  into  ex- 
istence the  peculiar  custom  of  all  the  Latin,  as  well  as  the 
English,  peoples  exclaiming,  "God  bless  you !"  or  its  equivalent, 
upon  hearing  one  sneeze.  The  reason  for  the  custom  is  that 
sneezing  was  one  of  the  first  symptoms  of  the  fearful  plague, 
and  one,  hearing  his  friend  sneeze,  immediately  felt  afraid  he 
was  seized  with  the  dread  disease,  and  gave  vent  to  this  pious 
exclamation.  The  custom  persists  to  this  day,  but  few  know 
its  origin.  This  plague  also  brings  to  mind  a  noble  example 
of  heroism  that  is  worthy  of  enshrinement  in  every  heart.  It 
was  found  by  those  who  watched  the  progress  of  the  plague 
that  it  went  from  place  to  place,  dying  out  here  as  soon  as  it 
appeared  elsewhere.  It  was  this  phenomenon  that  gave  to 
Eugene  Sue  the  dramatic  element  in  his  novel,  for  it  appeared 
to  the  ignorant  people  of  those  days  that  the  plague  actually 
followed  the  cursed  Jew.  A  country  pastor,  an  humble  but 
devoted  and  true  servant  of  God,  in  a  little  Derbyshire  village, 
had  observed  this  fact.  Although  isolation  for  contagious  dis- 
eases was  not  thought  of  by  physicians  at  that  time,  this  man 
seemed  to  grasp  the  idea.  He  determined  that  if  ever  the  dis- 
ease reached  his  village  he  would  endeavor  to  isolate  his  people 
from  all  others  so  that  it  would  stop  there  and  no  longer  con- 


20  YOUR  MEMORY! 

tinue  to  slay  its  helpless  victims.  In  due  time  the  plague  did 
appear  in  his  village.  He  had  already  aroused  in  his  simple- 
minded  flock  the  spirit  of  true  heroism,  and  they  pledged  them- 
selves to  second  his  endeavors.  Food  was  brought  from  a 
near-by  town  and  deposited  near  a  watering-trough,  in  which 
a  small  stream  was  continually  flowing.  In  this  flowing  water 
the  villagers  placed  the  money  in  payment  for  their  food  sup- 
plies. Thus  there  was  no  contact  of  peoples,  no  contamina- 
tion. The  villagers  kept  to  themselves,  no  one  going  away  and 
no  one  coming  in.  The  result  was  that  in  a  very  short  time  the 
plague  was  stayed,  and  Europe  breathed  a  great  sigh  of  relief, 
attributing  its  cessation  to  the  goodness  of  God,  when  we  now 
know  it  was  owing  to  the  self-sacrificing  wisdom  of  men. 

But  we  are  not  yet  through  with  our  associations  with  the 
accidental  date  of  1666.  The  most  remarkable  account  we 
have  of  the  Great  Plague  is  Daniel  DeFoe's  "Journal  °f  tne 
Plague,"  which  for  many  years  was  regarded  as  the  genuine 
diary  of  an  eye-witness.  As  DeFoe,  however,  was  not  born 
until  1661,  five  years  before  the  plague,  he  could  have  had  but 
the  faintest  and  most  childish  remembrances  of  that  dread 
event.  But  it  was  he  who  wrote  the  world-famous,  ever- 
enjoyable  "Robinson  Crusoe."  This  appeared  in  1719,  and, 
while  the  association  of  this  date  with  that  of  1666  is  remote, 
it  does  approximately  fix  the  date  of  the  appearance  of  that 
masterpiece. 

Another  literary  masterpiece  appeared,  however,  much 
nearer  the  time  of  the  plague.  That  was  John  Bunyan's  "Pil- 
grim's Progress,"  which  was  written  in  Bedford  Jail  during 
the  actual  year  of  the  plague  and  fire. 

One  of  the  greatest  lawyers  of  England  was  Sir  Matthew 
Hale,  and  it  is  a  help  to  fix  approximately  the  time  he  was  on 
the  bench  when  we  recall  that  it  was  he  who  sentenced  John 
Bunyan  to  the  twelve  years'  confinement  that  gave  to  the  world 
his  "Pilgrim's  Progress."  On  the  other  hand,  Hale  was  a  great 


YOUR  MEMORY!  21 

personal  friend  of  Richard  Baxter,  who,  at  about  the  same 
time,  wrote  the  well  known  "Saints'  Everlasting  Rest."  Here, 
then,  hung  on  to  this  accidental  peg  of  the  year  1666,  we  find 
the  following  facts :  First,  the  Great  Fire ;  second,  the  Great 
Plague;  third,  Eugene  Sue's  novel  "The  Wandering  Jew;" 
fourth,  the  custom  of  saying  "God  bless  you;"  fifth,  the  hero- 
ism of  the  Derbyshire  villagers  that  stopped  the  plague ;  sixth 
DeFoe's  writing  of  the  "Journal  of  the  Plague"  and  "Robinson 
Crusoe ;"  seventh,  Bunyan's  writing  of  "Pilgrim's  Progress ;" 
eighth,  Sir  Matthew  Hale  on  the  English  bench ;  ninth,  Richard 
Baxter's  writing  of  the  "Saints'  Everlasting  Rest." 

Every  novelist  uses  this  law  of  accidental  association,  for 
it  is  habitually  used  by  every  class  of  people.  Who  is  there 
who  does  not  recall  certain  events  because  they  happened  on 
days  when  other  and  perhaps  more  important  events  occurred 
which  fixed  the  date  in  the  mind?  For  instance,  if  an  event 
occurred  on  the  day  of  her  first  child's  birth,  and  the  mother 
was  aware  of  it,  you  may  rest  fully  assured  she  would  have 
no  trouble  recalling  the  date  of  the  event.  Its  accidental  asso- 
ciation will  guarantee  its  remembrance. 

Lawyers  use  this  law  constantly  in  seeking  to  extract  evi- 
dences from  their  witnesses.  The  dates  of  certain  events  are 
surely  fixed  in  the  mind.  Other  events,  less  securely  remem- 
bered, occurred  at,  or  about,  the  same  time.  The  association 
once  clearly  established,  the  memory  invariably  responds. 

THE  SCIENTIFIC  METHOD 

This  method  is  merely  a  phase  of  reflection,  for  during  that 
process  one  naturally  classifies  his  ideas,  received  through 
observation.  As  David  Pryde  says  in  his  "How  to  Read" : 

See  every  fact  and  group  of  facts  as  clearly  and  distinctly  as  you 
can;  ascertain  the  fact  in  your  past  experience  to  which  it  bears  a 
likeness  or  relation,  and  then  associate  it  with  that  fact.  And  this, 


22  YOUR  MEMORY! 

rule  can  be  applied  in  almost  every  case.  Take  as  an  example  that 
most  difficult  of  all  efforts,  namely,  the  beginning  of  a  new  study, 
where  all  the  details  are  strange.  All  that  you  have  to  do  is  to  begin 
with  those  details  that  can  be  associated  with  your  past  experience. 
In  science,  begin  with  the  specimens  with  which  you  are  already  famil- 
iar, and  group  around  them  as  many  other  specimens  as  you  can.  In 
history  and  geography,  commence  with  the  facts  relating  to  the  places 
and  scenes  which  you  actually  know.  And  in  foreign  languages,  start 
with  the  words  and  phrases  for  the  most  familiar  objects  and  incidents 
of  every-day  life.  In  this  way  you  will  give  all  your  mind  a  clear  and 
safe  foundation  in  your  own  experience.  .  .  .  The  mind  cannot  master 
many  disconnected  details.  It  becomes  perplexed  and  then  helpless.  It 
must  generalize  these  details.  It  must  arrange  them  into  groups,  accord- 
ing to  the  three  laws  of  association — resemblance,  contiguity,  and  cause 
and  effect.  This,  it  will  be  granted  at  once,  must  be  the  method  in 
all  rigidly  systematic  studies,  such  as  the  sciences,  history,  biography, 
and  politics.  But  it  is  valuable  to  ordinary  people  as  well  to  know 
that  the  same  plan  can  be  used  in  all  kinds  of  descriptions.  Every  col- 
lection of  details  can  be  arranged  in  groups  in  such  a  way  that  they 
can  be  clearly  understood  and  remembered.  The  following  is  the  man- 
ner in  which  this  can  be  done:  In  studying  any  interesting  scene,  let 
your  mind  look  carefully  at  all  the  details.  You  will  then  become  con- 
scious of  one  or  more  definite  effects  or  strong  impressions  that  have 
been  made  upon  you.  Discover  what  these  impressions  are.  Then 
group  and  describe  in  order  the  details  which  tend  to  produce  each  of 
the  impressions.  You  will  then  find  that  you  have  comprised  in  your 
description  all  the  important  details  of  the  scene.  As  an  instance,  let 
us  suppose  a  writer  is  out  in  the  country  on  a  morning  toward  the  end 
of  May,  and  wishes  to  describe  the  multitudinous  objects  which  delight 
his  senses.  First  of  all,  he  ascertains  that  the  general  impressions  as 
produced  on  his  mind  by  the  summer  landscape  are  the  ideas  of  luxu- 
riance, brightness  and  joy.  He  then  proceeds  to  describe  in  these 
groups  the  details  which  produce  these  impressions.  He  first  takes  up 
the  luxuriant  features,  the  springing  crops  of  grain  completely  hiding 
the  red  soil;  the  rich,  living  carpet  of  grass  and  flowers  covering  the 
meadows ;  the  hedge-rows  on  each  side  of  the  way,  in  their  bright  sum- 
mer green ;  the  trees  bending  gracefully  under  the  full  weight  of  their 
foliage;  and  the  wild  plants,  those  waifs  of  nature,  flourishing  every- 
where, smothering  the  woodland  brook,  filling  up  each  scar  and  crevice 
in  the  rock,  and  making  a  rich  fringe  along  the  side  of  every  highway 
and  footpath.  He  then  descants  upon  the  brightness  of  the  landscape; 


YOUR  MEMORY!  23 

the  golden  sunshine;  the  pearly  dew-drops  hanging  on  the  tips  of  every 
blade  of  grass,  and  sparkling  in  the  morning  rays;  the  clusters  of 
daisies  dappling  the  pasture-land ;  the  dandelion  glowing  under  the  very 
foot  of  the  traveler ;  the  chestnut  trees,  like  great  candelabra,  stuck  all 
over  with  white  lights,  lighting  up  the  woodlands;  and  lilacs,  labur- 
nums, and  hawthorne  in  full  flower,  making  the  farmer's  garden  one 
mass  of  variegated  blossom.  And  last  of  all,  he  can  dwell  upon  the 
joy  that  is  abroad  on  the  face  of  the  earth:  the  little  birds  so  full  of 
one  feeling  that  they  can  only  trill  it  forth  in  the  same  delicious  mono- 
tone ;  the  lark  bounding  into  the  air,  as  if  eager  and  quivering  to  pro- 
claim his  joy  to  the  whole  world;  the  bee  humming  his  satisfaction 
as  he  revels  among  the  flowers ;  and  the  myriads  of  insects  floating  in 
the  air  and  poising  and  darting  with  drowsy  buzz  through  the  floods 
of  golden  sunshine.  Thus  we  see  that,  by  this  habit  of  generalizing, 
the  mind  can  grasp  the  details  of  almost  any  scene. 

This  desire  to  unify  knowledge,  to  see  unity  in  variety,  is  one  of  the 
most  noted  characteristics  of  great  men  in  all  departures  of  learning. 
Scientific  men  in  the  present  day  are  eager  to  resolve  all  the  phenomena 
of  nature  into  force  or  energy.  The  history  of  philosophy,  too,  is  in  a 
great  measure  taken  up  with  attempts  to  prove  that  being  and  know- 
ing are  identical.  Emerson  can  find  no  better  definition  of  genius 
than  that  it  is  intellect  constructive.  Perhaps,  he  says,  if  we  should 
meet  Shakspere,  we  should  not  be  conscious  of  any  great  inferiority, 
but  of  a  great  equality,  only  that  he  possesses  a  great  skill  of  using— 
of  classifying — his  facts,  which  we  lacked. 

Herbert  Spencer  was  a  master  at  the  classification  of  facts. 
By  the  classification  of  all  the  known  languages  of  the  world, 
the  scientists  are  seeking  to  find  out  accurately,  as  never  be- 
fore, the  relationships  of  mankind.  Men  have  been  writing 
the  different  languages  of  widely  diverse  people  for  centuries, 
but  never  before  has  an  attempt  been  made  on  so  vast  a  scale 
to  bring  all  this  isolated  knowledge  to  bear  upon  the  solution 
of  one  great  question — the  origin  of  the  human  race.  All  sci- 
entific knowledge  is  based  upon  the  association  of  isolated  and 
detached  facts.  These  are  then  reflected  upon,  and,  finally, 
theories  begin  to  form  themselves  in  the  mind  of  the  student, 
the  philosopher.  He  then  brings  his  facts  and  theories  into 
close  relationship  and  sees  whether  they  "fit."  If  he  is  as- 


24  YOUR  MEMORY! 

sured  that  they  do,  he  presents  his  thought  to  the  world,  and, 
according  to  its  reasonableness,  it  is  received  or  rejected. 

THE  PICTORIAL  METHOD 

Most  children  make  mental  pictures  with  great  ease,  but, 
unfortunately,  as  they  grow  older,  they  allow  this  faculty  to 
lose  its  power  by  disuse.  In  the  cultivation  and  use  of  the 
memory,  however,  it  can  be  of  the  greatest  possible  help.  All 
books  of  travel  and  description,  all  novels,  all  history,  are 
made  up  of  a  series  of  word  pictures.  Do  not  be  content 
merely  to  read  the  words  of  these  pictures.  Go  further! 
Actually  picture  each  scene  in  your  imagination  and  you  will 
thus  materially  aid  your  original  power  of  observation.  Let 
your  pictures  be  definite,  positive,  explicit  as  to  details,  for  the 
more  careful  you  are  in  making  a  picture  real'to  your  mind, 
the  easier  it  will  be  recalled. 

Now,  if  you  desire  to  recall  the  whole  course  of  a  book, 
you  will  find  these  vividly-made  mental  pictures  have  a  natural 
order  of  sequence,  and  one  will  recall  the  next  following,  and 
so  on.  There  is  great  joy  in  learning  to  make  pictorial 
thought-links,  and  then  in  the  ability  they  give  to  the  memory 
to  recall  them. 

METHODS  OF  CONSTRUCTIVE  THOUGHT-LINKING 
We  now  come  to  the  active  making  of  artificial  links  as  aids 
to  the  memory  where  none  naturally  appear.     A  thought-link 
of  this  type  is  the  generally  known  doggerel : 

Thirty  days  hath  September, 
April,  June  and  November, 
All  the  rest  have  thirty-one 
Save  February  which  alone 
1  Has  twenty-eight,  and  one  day  more 
We  add  to  it  one  year  in  four. 

1  Here  is  a  variant  of  the  last  two  lines : 

"Has  twenty-eight  and  this  in  fine 
One  year  in  four  has  twenty-nine." 


YOUR  MEMORY!  25 

In  like  manner  how  do  we  remember  the  order  of  the  prime 
colors?  Few  there  are  who  do  not  know  the  coined  word, 
made  from  the  initial  letters  of  Violet,  Indigo,  Blue,  Green, 
Yellow,  Orange,  Red — Vibgyor.  Again,  the  student  of  geology, 
who  forgets  the  order  of  his  great  epochs  or  eras,  might  recall 
them  by  formulating  a  sentence  that  presents  the  initial  letters 
of  the  names  of  these  epochs.  Thus,  "Careful  men  pay  eas- 
ily," suggests  Cenozoic,  Mesozoic,  Paleozoic,  Eozoic.  Of 
course  no  one  of  common  sense  presumes  to  assert  that  these 
constructive  thought-links  are  any  other  than  crutches,  foot- 
bridges over  streams  too  wide  to  stride  or  jump  unaided.  They 
should  frankly  be  recognized  as  such,  and  only  reverted  to  in 
case  of  necessity,  or  as  a  last  resort.  But  it  is  equally  foolish 
in  view  of  the  testimony  of  their  almost  universal  usage  and 
helpfulness,  to  deny  that  they  are  an  aid  to  most  memories. 

THINK  OF  THE  IMPRESSIONS 

To  "think  of  the  impressions."  This  is  the  final  admonition 
of  Stokes's  golden  rule  of  memory.  One  word  conveys  his 
idea — review.  The  things  to  be  remembered  must  be  thought 
over.  They  must  be  re-collected — again  collected.  You  will 
thus  re-observe  them,  re-reflect  upon  them,  re-strengthen  your 
original  mental  impressions  and  the  ideas  that  have  grown 
around  them.  Experience  demonstrates  that  all  memory  im- 
pressions are  lasting.  One  may  have  forgotten  something  for 
twenty,  thirty,  forty  years,  when  suddenly  a  chance  word, 
sound,  sight,  or  even  odor,  will  recall  it  with  an  intensity  and 
reality  that  are  startling.  All  works  on  mental  philosophy  give 
illustrations  of  this  asserted  fact.  The  practical  need  of  all 
men,  however,  is  to  cultivate  the  ability  to  call  up  mental  im- 
pressions at  will. 

Ready  recollection  is  the  great  desideratum.  Hidden  knowl- 
edge is  of  slight  use.  It  is  as  if  one  had  a  fortune  stored  away 


26  YOUR  MEMORY! 

in  some  hidden  dungeon,  carefully  locked  up,  but  he  had  lost 
the  key.  Availability,  readiness,  promptness  are  essentials  to 
efficiency.  The  hat-boy  at  the  hotel  dining-room  would  be 
useless  did  his  memory  not  act  promptly,  instantly.  To-mor- 
row will  not  do.  Now  is  the  accepted  time. 

This  efficient,  prompt,  responsive  memory  is  the  one  you 
need  and  desire.  It  is  worth  striving  for.  The  prospector 
wanders  over  the  mountains,  canyons,  deserts,  for  years,  seek- 
ing the  precious  ore  in  most  unlikely  places.  He  is  always 
buoyed  up  with  the  hope,  some  day,  of  striking  it  rich.  Are 
you  as  earnest  in  your  desire  for  memory  development  as  he? 
If  so,  careful,  systematic,  daily  exercise  of  the  various  facul- 
ties of  the  mind  and  memory  will  give  to  you  this  golden  pos- 
session. Reread  here  what  has  been  quoted  earlier  from  David 
Pryde's  "What  Books  to  Read  and  How  to  Read."  The  hints 
therein  contained  are  worth  their  weight  in  gold  to  the  really 
earnest  student.  But  rest  assured  of  this:  If  you  would 
have  a  good  memory,  you  must  work  for  it.  Give  your  whole 
attention  to  whatever  you  read  or  hear.  Concentrate.  Com- 
pare the  parts  of  the  composition  with  the  whole.  Seek  its 
excellencies,  study  its  deficiencies.  Reflect  upon  it  from  every 
angle.  Write  out  in  your  own  language  the  facts,  or  the  ideas 
of  what  you  have  heard  or  read.  Then  use  daily  what  you 
have  gained.  Knowledge  stored  away  in  the  mind  is  not  only 
useless,  it  is  positively  injurious.  Use  is  the  law  of  life.  Give 
your  knowledge,  ypur  ideas,  your  reflections  away.  Tell  them 
to  your  intimates,  your  friends.  Write  them  to  your  corre- 
spondents. For  the  more  you  give  the  more  you  will  find  you 
have.  There  is  a  giving  that  increases  and  a  withholding  that 
impoverishes,  and  in  nothing  is  this  more  apparent  than  in  the 
giving  of  the  riches  of  the  mind  or  memory.  Each  time  one 
recites  a  well-liked  poem  for  the  benefit  and  blessing  of  others, 
the  more  firmly  he  fixes  it  in  his  own  mind.  "There  is  that 
which  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth."  In  the  scattering  of 


YOUR:  MEMORY!  :  ;  .•  27 

your  gems  of  mind  and  heart,  you  are  increasing  your  own 
store. 

Not  only  give  freely,  but  give  often.  The  daily  use  of  what 
you  have  gained  is  an  advantage.  Avail  yourself  of  every 
reasonable  opportunity  to  use  your  newly  acquired  powers,  and 
your  newly  acquired  knowledge.  Let  me  repeat,  use  is  the  law 
of  life.  To  learn  something  new  daily  is  a  good  motto,  but  to 
use  what  you  have  learned  is  even  better.  You  gain  ease  of 
recollection  by  daily  exercising  the  faculty  of  recollection. 
And  if  your  memory  balks,  refuses  to  act,  compel  it  to  obey 
you.  If  you  make  a  demand  upon  it  and  it  fails  to  respond — 
you  cannot  remember — do  not  let  the  matter  go  by.  Demand 
of  the  memory  that  it  bring  back  that  which  you  require. 
Keep  the  need  before  you. 

In  this  constant,  persistent,  cheerful,  willing  use  of  the  mem- 
ory lies  great  happiness  and  content.  "It  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive."  The  more,  in  reason,  the  athlete  uses 
his  muscles  the  stronger  they  become.  And  think  of  the  ra- 
diant joy  that  is  the  natural  accompaniment  of  a  healthy,  vig- 
orous body.  What  constant  pleasure  is  his  who  calls  upon  a 
physical  body  which  readily  and  willingly  responds !  Equally 
so  is  it  with  the  memory  and  all  the  mind.  Activity  keeps  it 
in  health.  In  this  glorious  condition  it  readily  responds  to  all 
calls,  it  is  radiantly  alive,  and  I  know  of  no  joy  greater  that 
can  be  given  to  man  than  that  in  body,  mind,  and  soul  he  is  a 
radiating  center  of  activity,  receiving  and  giving  on  every  hand. 

In  conclusion,  here  are  a  few  practical  words  upon  the  other 
side  of  the  question,  on  forgetting,  for  there  is  a  forgetting  that 
is  of  great  help  to  the  power  of  remembering.  Fix  these  pre- 
cepts firmly  in  your  mind : 

Forget  evil  imaginations. 

Forget  the  slander  you  have  heard. 

Forget  the  meanness  of  small  souls. 

Forget  the  faults  of  your  friends. 


28  YOUR.,  MEMORY ! 

Forget  the  injuries  done  you  by  your  enemies. 

Forget  the  misunderstandings  of  yesterday. 

Forget  all  malice,  all  fault-finding,  all  injuries,  all  hardness, 
all  unlovely  and  distressing  things. 

Start  out  every  day  with  a  clean  sheet.  Remember  only  the 
sweet,  beautiful  and  lovely  things,  and  you  will  thus  be  as  a 
human  sun  of  righteousness,  with  healing  in  your  rays. 


DELIGHT  AND  POWER 
IN  SPEECH 

A  UNIVERSAL  DRAMATIC  READER 


BY 
LEONARD  G.  NATTKEMPER 

Polytechnic  High  School,  Long  Beach,  Cat. 

Formerly  Professor  of  Public  Speaking, 

University  of  Southern  California 

AND 

GEORGE  WHARTON  JAMES,  LITT.  D. 

Author  of  "California,  Romantic  and  Beautiful," 

"Arizona,  the  Wonderland"    In  and  Out 

of  the  Old  Missions  of  California" 

"Reclaiming  the  Arid  West," 

Etc.,  Etc. 


A  NEW,  COMPLETE  AND  PRACTICAL  METHOD  OF 

SECURING  DELIGHT  AND   EFFICIENCY   IN 

SILENT  AND  ORAL  READING  AND 

PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  SPEECH 


TOGETHER  WITH   A  LARGE  AND  VAR] 
OF  CAREFULLY   CHOSE: 


SELECTIONS  IN  PROSE  AND  POETRY, 

WITH  CHAPTERS  ON  "THE  CULTIVATION  OF  THE 
MEMORY"  AND  "AFTER  DINNER  SPEAKI 


THE  RADIANT  LIFE  PRESS 

PASADENA,  CALIFORNIA 
1919 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  BY 
GEORGE  WHARTON  JAMES 

BOOKS  OF  TRAVEL  AND  DESCRIPTION 

In   and  Around  the   Grand   Canyon   of   Arizona J4.3Q 

The  Grand   Canyon   of  Arizona;   How  to  See  It 2.00  "2.25 

In   and   Out   of    the    Old   Franciscan   Missions   of   California 4.0!: 

The    Old    Franciscan    Missies 2.00  2.25 

Picturesque    Pala                                                                                             .75  .90 

California,    Romantic    and    Beaut:                        4.50 

Arizona,    the    Wonderland.                                              4.50 

New   Mexico,   the   Land   of   the   Delight-Makers -4.UO  4,50 

Through    Ramona's    Country .  4.30 

The  Lake  of  the  Sky,  Lake  Tahoe,  Cal. 3.00  3.30 

Winter  Sports  in  the  High  Sierras 1.00  1.25 

Wonders   of   the    Colorado    Deser, 4.40 

Reclaiming  the   Arid    West 3.75 

Our  American    Wonderlands. 2.50 

BOOKS   ON   INDIANS    OR   THEIR   INDUSTRIES 

Repaid 

Indian    Blankets    and  Their   Makers 3.00 

Indian  Basketry,  and  How  to  Make  Indian  and   Other   Baskets  3.85 

Practical     Basket     Making 1.25  1.40 

Twenty    Model    Indian    Basket    Designs,    $2.00    the    set    prepaid. 

The  Indians  of  the   Painted  Desert  Region...                                         3.00  3.30 

The    Indians'    Secrets   of   Health 2.50  2.85 

BOOKS  OF  HELPFUL  PHILOSOPHY 

Net  Prepaid 

Buit   Your    Worrying .  ... $1.25  $1 

iving   the    Radiant    Life 1.25  1.40 

Living  the  Accumulative   Life.      (In   preparation.) 

Singing    Through    Life    with    God 1.75  2.00 

The    Guiding    Light 1.00  1.15 

BOOKS   OF  ANIMALS  AND   BIRDS 

.  Prepaid 

The    Story    of    Scraggles. $1.25  51.40 

The  Story  of  Captain,  the  Horse  with  the  Human   Bra:-  .60 

Love's   Power   Over   Wild   Animal, 1.75 

BOOKS  OF  BIOGRAPHY  AND  HISTORY 

Net  Prepaid 

Heroes    of    California..                                                                                  $4,00  $4.25 
Appreciation     of     Charles     Warren     Stoddard     (Containing     His 

Apostrophe   to  a    Skylark                                   1.00  1.15 

Palou's    "Life   of    Serra"    (Translated    by    C.    S.    Williams    and 

George  Wharton  James) 10,00  10.50 

BOOK  ON  PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  SPEECH 

Joint  Author   with   Leonard   G.    Nattkemper 

Net  Prepaid 

Delight  and   Power   in   Speech 53.50  $3.90 

MISCELLANEOUS  BOOKS 

Net  Prepaid 

California    Birthday    Book $1.00  $1.15 

House  Blessing  Ceremony  and   Guest  Book.                    ,    3.50  3.75 

In  special   bindings  from  $5.00   to  $20.00. 

Exposition   Memories 2.00  .". : 5 

Rose  Hartwick  Thorpe  and   the  Story  of  "Curfew" .75  ';o 

ORDER  FROM   ANY   BOOKSELLER,    OR   THE   RADIANT   LIFE  PRESS, 
PASADENA,   CAL. 


Makers 

Syracuse,  N.  Y 
PAT.  JAN,  21 ,1908 


ro 


451749 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


